Classic Poem

Our Lady loves the lily fair
Who stands so tall and white
With head bowed down in constant prayer
To Christ, the King of light.

The daisies in the meadow grass
Right dear she holds them all,
And smiles if she should hap' to pass
The roses on the wall.

She loves the flowers in their degree
For each one is a gem
Of worth and beauty fit to be
In some saint's diadem.

The gay nasturtium on her way
Lights up its blossom fires
By beauty only can it say
The love which she inspires.

Before her feet the blossoms fall
Because she loves them well,
But on the lupins most of all
Her eyes delight to dwell.

Each spire is clothed in God's own blue,
And faith it signifies;
Our Lady's robe is of this hue,
The colour of the skies.

The lupins' pride of blue and green
Delights the Mother blessed;
She stands among them as their queen,
They reach unto her breast.